I fly to Bangkok today. Without Pa. He says Bea is missing him, and that it’s spring training. Truth is, I think he’s homesick. Since passing more than 70 years ago, it’s the first time Pa’s been away from Bea.
Not wanting to provoke, I asked Pa about spring training, knowing that after he retired he spent time with the Cardinals in Florida. I assumed that’s what he was alluding to. But he surprised me.
“You know my dad was a coal miner. We had little when I was a boy. When you’re poor, people tend to look down on you. Sports was my way of leveling the playing field.”
It all made sense. The photos of Pa. Captain of his high school baseball team. And of his football team.
I asked how long he’d be away.
“A week or two. Long enough to catch up with Bea and get together with my teammates. We’ll play a few games. It will be just like old times.”
Concerned he might injure himself, I suggested he take it easy.
“No need to worry young man, where I come from you can be whoever you were in your previous life. Every spring, I’m captain of the team.”
It being Pa’s last day for a while, I asked what he’d like to see.
“The Blue Mansion. I’ve heard so much about it. Built by Cheong Fatt Ize in the 19th century, it has 38 rooms, 5 courtyards, 7 staircases and 220 windows.”
I asked how he knew such things.
“I know Cheong. Nice fellow.“
”Born poor like me. Later on he was General Consul of the Chinese government, and a director of China’s largest bank and China’s first railway. I can identify. Cheong built the Blue Mansion as a testament to his efforts. I did the same for Bea when I had the means, having promised her years before I’d do so.”
It was an easy walk from Carnarvon House. But when we arrived, a sign said it was closed to the public.
We peered through the barrier.
There were cars.
We approached the gate.
The guard said we couldn’t enter.
I told Pa we could go elsewhere. He’d have nothing of it, having known the pain of exclusion.
I suggested we make the most of it, and see what we could see.
We looked up,
and admired the detail.
Then caught glimpses of blue as best we could.
And there were the flowers,
to be seen by everyone.
On the walk back, we talked about what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.
“It gives you a certain perspective,” Pa said. “One the privileged often lack. How many who drive through that gate stop to appreciate the art, or smell the flowers given us freely?”
I knew Pa was right, but at the same time we’d seen so many who are excluded, who never get close to the gate. I wondered about them, but didn’t want to disturb Pa with my thoughts.
In the evening, we strolled through one of the Clan Jetties.
Chinese immigrants built homes on the jetties about the time the Blue Mansion was built.
There are no barriers on the jetties.
And the view is superior.
I woke this morning with an ache. Pa had left. But I knew he’d be back.
The Dutch always follow through.
Addendum
You know you’re half way around the world
when Mixed Doubles Badminton is the game to watch.
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